


Under the Wild Mistletoe

by Mousieta



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Camping, FFXV Secret Santa, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mousieta/pseuds/Mousieta
Summary: Gladio and his father have had another bust-up, a problem that has been occurring with increasing regularity, and sometimes the only thing that soothes him is time outdoors. Usually the gang tag along to keep him company but with Noctis and Prompto called away by family duties that leaves Ignis alone to keep Gladio company for the holiday. Only problem is Ignis's crush on Gladio is slowly growing out of control.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 15
Kudos: 49
Collections: FFXV Secret Santa 2019





	Under the Wild Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IggysNewRecipe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggysNewRecipe/gifts).



It is too far south for snow, thank the Gods for that. But still, it is cold enough for bundled layers and wet enough that it feels like ice shards against his skin.  _ Probably because they  _ are _ ice shards against my skin _ , Ignis thinks, rolling his eyes at himself. "I’m an idiot."

He tests his next step on the rocky incline before putting his weight down and moving forward, eyeing the sun creeping ever closer to the horizon. "A fucking idiot," he amends. Some idiocy requires profanity.

"Gladio had another bust up with his dad," Prompto had said. Again. They are becoming more frequent. "We’re heading out of town soon or I would join but I think he’s still packing if you want to go along." Of course. Usually the three of them will tag along when Gladio needs to bust out of town, or rather, free from his father's expectations.

Noct, however, is away with the rest of the royal family at their seasonal holiday retreat. Prompto is going to be leaving with his family for a week to visit extended relations, which leaves Ignis traipsing cross country with a pack on his back and ice shards in his boots.

Because he is a good friend, he insists to himself. But he is self-aware enough to know that is a lie.

"Just didn't want to leave you alone on Christmas," he rehearses aloud. "Figured you might want company," he tries next. He needs a good excuse for harrying off after Gladio alone that doesn’t broadcast " _ I'm in love with you and can't bear the thought of a day without seeing you. _ ” Especially at the holidays. 

"Desperately, pathetically, hopelessly in bloody love," Ignis grunts out, reaching up as the trail goes nearly vertical, "with your ridiculous, difficult, broody self." 

He is alone, hiking up a familiar trail with no one around to listen as he vents out his frustrations. Of course Gladio would choose  _ this  _ camp site, the most difficult of their regular haunts. Ignis adds it to his running list of Gladio’s many flaws, though somehow that list never seems to do anything to dampen Ignis’s feelings. 

There is a scuttle of pebbles falling overhead and he scrapes his arm against a rock, hissing softly in pain. In his peripheral vision he can see the wide expanse of the plain below. He has to admit he understands Gladio’s choice. Though the view from the plateau above  _ is  _ spectacular, it’s just a chore to get to, especially alone.

Ignis had hoped, when Prompto had told him which way Gladio had headed, that he'd chosen an easier campsite further south and so his heart sank when he’d seen Gladio's bike parked at the rest stop that marked the start of this trail.

"You could have called him hours ago, when Prompto first mentioned seeing him packing," Ignis chides himself, climbing up a few more feet. "But no-" he grunts as he heaves himself up again, "had to get all stuck in your thoughts, agonizing -" he tests his grip then moves up, "is it to forward, is it ok to just be the two of us, is- woah-"

His fingers slip on the rocks and he skids down a foot.

"Pay attention to the trail."

Ducking his head he pushes himself out of his self-flagellation and focuses on getting to the first ledge. It isn't  _ that  _ bad a climb, just taxing and unforgiving to the lovelorn.

He’d been meaning to ask Gladio if he could come along, really; he’d been celebrating the holiday alone, otherwise. The Amicitas had long ago extended a standing invitation for any holiday once Clarus understood that Ignis had no intentions of ever visiting his family for any reason. And Ignis could have gone over to celebrate but it would have felt strange without Gladio. 

“Couldn’t bear going a day without seeing your hot crush,” he mutters to himself. 

Really, Ignis should be kinder to himself. Prompto is always telling him so, but, it feels so easy to slip into self-recrimination. It is a well-worn, well-tailored shirt he can wrap himself in. 

With a sigh he makes it to the first ledge at which they usually rest. He sits with his back to the trail and hangs his legs over the ledge, looking back out over the plain. The world is cast in shades of grey, rimed in frost. It is an amazing sight, though the angle of the sun in the sky is a bit bothersome. The sun sets so early on the shortest day of the year. 

In the distance he can hear the trickle of the small spring that runs through these foothills. Between the view and the dancing sound of water, Ignis completely understands why it is Gladio came here. His bust-ups with his father have grown in frequency of late, their personalities clashing at the merest hint of friction. 

Sometimes Ignis opens the door to his apartment late at night to find a sheepish Gladio with an overnight bag on his threshold, but other times the only thing that eases Gladio’s angst seems to be the outdoors. Most of the time it was the four of them joining Gladio. On occasion Noctis or Prompto had to skip due to family responsibilities but-

But it has never just been Gladio and Ignis. 

Even the nights Gladio sleeps at Ignis’s apartment have a snoring Noctis featuring prominently on the living room couch. 

The sun seems to be making double time as it peeks through the clouds on its way to the horizon. Ignis stands and resumes the trail, shifting his pack on his back to relieve his aching shoulders. 

There is one tricky part of the trail, towards the top, if he doesn’t hurry, he’ll have to make it in near darkness. He’s done it many times but he doesn’t want to press his luck. 

It is hard to tell, really, when his feelings for Gladio, who he’s known for years, shifted away from purely friendly. Prompto teases that it had probably grown in direct proportion to Gladio’s biceps and that thought brings a tinge to Ignis’s cheeks for all that it isn’t true. 

Maybe it had been the nights when they’d managed to sneak out with the prince in the Regalia, wind blowing through their hair and Gladio seated beside him in the passenger’s seat, loud laugh filling the air around them. Or maybe it had been the way Gladio would look at him after a day spent in the Training Room, when they were exhausted and drained but, somehow, Gladio still found it in him to give Ignis a smile. The nights they’d spent around a camp fire arguing over books while Noctis and Prompto had retreated to the safety of the tents probably had a lot to do with it. 

“His biceps don’t hurt his case either, though, do they?” he mutters. They, along with Gladio’s Cold War with shirts are a constant source of suffering for Ignis. Somehow Gladio had morphed from the scrawny, gangly kid he’d first met into the most attractive human being on the planet, as Prompto is constantly pointing out. 

“Really should reevaluate friendship with him.” Prompto seems to be getting a lot of milage out of Ignis’s one-sided affections. At least the prince hasn’t seemed to have picked up on the romantic undercurrents emanating from Ignis whenever Gladio is nearby, for which Ignis is grateful. Gladio is only a touch more perceptive than Noctis so Ignis doesn’t have to worry that he’s been found out. 

Though, one day, he really is going to have to gather up his courage and actually make a move. But, as his ability to communicate with Gladio enough to ask to join him on his jaunt cross-country is lacking, he doubts he’ll be confessing any time soon. 

He realizes, looking up, that the summit is nearing and begins to panic. He still hasn’t settled on a convincing lie to explain his presence. 

“Ignis?” Gladio’s voice echoes down from above. Ignis’s heart leaps up to his throat, sending him spiralling backwards. Above him, Gladio’s face peers over the ledge he’d been making for, face shocked. 

It is all Ignis has time to register as the world spins around him; he tumbles over and over the steep incline, finding every rock and bump along the way. 

Finally, he skids to a halt, looking up at the wine-dark sky. He registers a stinging cold against his side and realizes he’d fallen into the spring. “Oh, damn,” he says and just lies back, willing the universe to open up the rock below him. 

“Iggy!” Gladio shouts from above. “Are you ok?”

Squeezing his eyes so tight he sees stars, Ignis shouts back, “I’m alive. Ok, I think.” He tries to stand and realizes his foot is stuck. His heart sinks into his stomach. Great, now Gladio is going to have to mount a rescue. 

“Hold on a bit,” Gladio shouts down. “I’m comin’ to get you.”

“No!” Ignis cannot bear the thought and his heart can’t seem to stay in one spot. If Gladio comes down it may actually just up and leave him. “No, hold on.” He twists and grunts, feeling a sharp stabbing pain in his leg for a moment before it comes free. 

“It’s ok!” Ignis shouts back with relief. His body convulses in a shiver, his whole left leg soaking wet from hip to heel. Gritting his teeth, he focuses up the trail in the dimming light, taking stock of how far he’s fallen. Unfortunately, he didn’t fall straight back onto the trail but has shifted substantially. The way is rocky and steep but he figures he can just barely make it up before the light is gone altogether. 

“Do you have some rope?”

“Yep,” Gladio grunts out as he disappears. Ignis tenderly shifts his weight onto the foot that had been trapped. It twinges a hair but not dangerously. Stepping off it, he lifts and rotates his foot, testing the joint. It moves smoothly and he lets out his held breath. He was going to be ok, if incredibly bruised up. 

“You sure you don’t want me to come down and get you?” Gladio asks as as he peers back down, length of rope slowly descending towards Ignis. 

“Just hold the rope steady,” Ignis commands more firmly than he feels. Everything is still shaky as the tail ends of his adrenaline spike lash at him. 

The rope drops down into his reach and he stretches to grab it. He wraps a significant length around his forearm and grips it with both hands. Above, Gladio has disappeared, likely stepped away from the ledge enough to get good leverage. 

“I’m coming up,” Ignis shouts. The line goes taut and he begins to climb. 

It’s steady, arduous, going. The line keeps him steady and, thankfully, he doesn’t have to climb much. Still, he crests the ledge sweaty and panting just as the sun winks its last. 

He stumbles up and Gladio is there, half kneeling, to catch him before he completely collapses, though he is in no better shape, panting and just as sweat-drenched as Ignis. 

The husky scent that is all Gladio overwhelms him and Ignis has to claw through the butterflies threatening to choke him to speak. “Thanks.”

“Of course -” There is a hint of concern and confusion in Gladio’s voice. “What are you even doing here?”

“Didn’t-” Ignis huffs out - “didn’t want you to be alone.” He takes in a few more breaths and is, finally, steadying. “It’s the holiday.”

It is  _ just _ as cheesy and transparent as he’d feared but all Gladio does is give him a hearty pat on the shoulder that shifts into a half-hug. 

“Seriously, Iggy, you didn’t have to.” A solid clap lands between Ignis’s shoulderblades. “But thank you.” 

Gladio freezes and pulls back, hands on each of Ignis’s arms. “You’re shivering, did you fall in the stream?”

Teeth chattering, Ignis nods even though it’s too dark to see. 

“Come on-” Gladio throws an arm around his shoulders and pulls him towards the camp, “I’ve got it all set up so you can change and get warm.” 

Ignis manages a nod. 

The fire is warm and bright, crackling away cheerily as they approach, sending shadows dancing up in the bare branches of the trees above. A pot is already setting over it, bubbling away, filling everything with the smell of spiced wine.

Gladio steers them towards the tent he’d set up. It’s big enough for two - though considering Gladio’s size, it would still be a tight fit. Banishing that thought from planting itself and growing wild, Ignis drops his pack off his back and begins rummaging for a spare set of clothes. The light of the campfire isn’t enough, however, to make sense of the mess of his pack. 

“Here,” Gladio says and Ignis looks up to see clothes being held out to him. Gladio’s. “Was messin’ with my pack earlier and they were lying out. They’re gonna be a bit big but-”

Ignis takes them and nods his head in thanks before ducking into the tent, mortified. 

There is nothing for it but to wear Gladio’s clothes. 

“Toss out your wet stuff,” Gladio says from the other side of the flap. “I’ll lay it out to dry.” 

Smart, not letting the wet clothes pool the area where they will be sleeping. Stripping, Ignis balls up his wet things and snakes a hand out the door. They’re quickly taken away and he pulls on the soft pants, warm from being by the fire. 

The shirt is really a bulky hoody, one Gladio obviously had been wearing earlier as it still smells of his aftershave. He pulls it on, feeling the soft cotton skim over the bare skin of his chest and stomach. He takes a long, long moment to breathe through the arousal surging through him. This was altogether one of his  _ worst _ ideas.

“Iggy?” 

Blinking, Ignis sees Gladio’s silhouette in front of the tent. “Yeah, here, fine, coming.” 

He steps out of the tent and Gladio is there with a beaming smile. “I was gonna make some noodles, want a cup?”

Ignis can’t help but laugh. Cup Noodle for his holiday meal. But it feels fitting so he nods. 

Gladio shoots him a wink then steps over to the fire, rummaging through a smaller pack Ignis instantly recognizes. “Is- is that my cooking kit?” 

“Uh-” Gladio glances up, looking like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “you weren’t gonna be needing it were you?”

Ignis shakes his head, still chuckling. Like he could be angry. “No, I suppose not.” 

Gladio beams. “Good! Want some wine?”

Ignis crouches down to look at the pot that has been simmering, filling the camp with an amazing smell. Gladio hands him a spoon and resumes pouring bottled water into another pot. Ignis stirs, nose appreciating Gladio’s work. “Orange, cloves,” he says then pauses, “cinnamon?” 

Gladio nods then places the pot of water over the fire. A second later, he’s got a small pan over it as well, heating as he steps away to the table he’d set up.

“What are you doing?” Ignis asks indulgently. He’d fully intended to cook but Gladio is moving around the camp with purpose. “Do you want me to-”

“No-” Gladio shoots him a look. “You’re going to stay there and warm up and in a couple minutes I’m going to pour you some wine.” He adds a few pointed jabs with a fork in Ignis’s direction for emphasis and Ignis relents, moving to a handy log to warm himself. 

“Speaking of-” Gladio disappears then reappears with a camp chair, which he snaps open then gestures for Ignis to sit. 

A bit miffed, Ignis moves from the log and settles himself in. 

Gladio returns to his table then squats back down by the fire and lays fat slices of spam onto the pan. They sizzle and pop, adding their salty smell to join the rest in the air. Ignis’s stomach rumbles and Gladio elbows him. “I’m pretty handy around a campfire too, ya know.” 

“So I’m learning,” Ignis replies. It is simultaneously strange and comforting. Usually it’s him bustling around a campfire, seeing to everyone’s needs but here he is - being taken care of for once. 

“This is for you,” Gladio says and waits until Ignis is watching before he dumps a plate of sliced vegetables into the boiling water. 

“You’re too kind,” Ignis says dryly but he knows Gladio can sense his delight as he’s given another beaming smile. This night is going to be the end of him, Ignis concludes.  _ But what a way to go _ . 

They sit in silence, Ignis pretending to watch the fire but really just watching Gladio as he flips the spam and pokes at the vegetables boiling away.  _ He’s beautiful like this. _ Ignis’s heart feels the pressure of all his emotions overwhelming him. 

The firelight seems to love Gladio’s face as much as Ignis does, and he envies it, the way it caresses every plane, dips into every hollow, how it warms his skin and gives it the faintest flush. It dances in his eyes, throwing glittering sparkles over their dark depths. 

“Ignis,” Gladio says and Ignis realizes he’s been calling his name for a while. 

“Sorry -” he straightens and adjusts his glasses, “sorry what?”

Gladio huffs a laugh. “Are you ready for some wine?” he asks patiently. 

“Yeah, sure, that -” he licks his lips and gives himself a mental slap- “that would be lovely.” 

Gladio ladles out a spoonful of wine into a deep mug and hands it over. 

“Was lost in thought,” Ignis explains. 

“Gil for them?” Gladio asks as he takes the last of the fried spam off the pan and places it on the table.

“Just thinking about when we first met,” Ignis answers, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the memories of that time come back. 

Gladio guffaws as the memories come to him as well. “You were such a nerd,” he says and Ignis hums, bringing the mug up to his lips and inhaling deeply. “I was a jerk,” Gladio adds and Ignis hums again. He returns to crouching by the fire.

“We were so young,” Ignis adds and takes a sip. It fills him down to his core with a deep, seeping warmth. 

“If you ask some people we still are,” Gladio says bitterly and Ignis reaches out a hand to cover Gladio’s shoulder. 

“Some people are blinded by their age and prejudice,” Ignis whispers, knowing full well who those people were. “And they are wrong.”

He’s about to pull his hand back when Gladio shifts, moves his free hand up and places it over Ignis’s. He shifts his head to look at Ignis, their eyes meeting. Ignis’s brain melts under that gaze, only aware of them and the heavy weight of Gladio’s hand over his own. 

“Thank you,” Gladio says, “for being here.” He pauses for a second, thinking, then adds, “for always being here.”

Ignis can’t think, can’t breath, can’t function. “I’ll always be here,” he manages to gasp out. 

Something  _ shifts _ in Gladio’s gaze. It goes from grateful, friendly to something else, something deeper and more potent. His lids droop and Ignis is glad he is already sitting. 

“I know,” Gladio says. “And I love you for it.” 

Oxygen ceases to exist and the world falls out from under Ignis. Gladio pivots, bringing Ignis’s hand down to be wrapped in both of his as he kneels at Ignis’s feet. “You should be tucked away in a palace or manor tonight, drinking fine wine and eating a spectacular feast. But you’re here with me, in this freezing cold in the middle of winter on the longest night of the year. And I’m thankful.”

Ignis should speak - should say something but he sits, transfixed, spellbound by Gladio and his words. 

“I’m thankful for you, for all you do and -” he pauses as if gathering his thoughts, “and for what you mean to me. I’m glad you came up here tonight because it gives me the chance to say something I’ve been wanting to say - that I should have said a long time ago.”

“Gladio-” Ignis rasps out. 

The hands around his tighten and Gladio says, “please, Iggy. Please I’ve been trying to get the courage to tell you for so long - to tell you -” he trails off. 

“Tell me what?” Ignis asks. 

“That I love you. That I’m in love with you and have been for months, years, I don’t know, and that you’ve been driving me nuts for months now because sometimes I think you like me too, but I can’t tell but - I just need to tell you.”

Ignis pulls his hands from Gladio’s and, sliding to the edge of his seat, he brings it up to hover in the air beside Gladio’s face. It’s so, so close to touching but he is terrified to bridge the gap. Looking up at him, Gladio solves the problem in his straightforward way as he tilts his head and leans into Ignis’s touch. 

His face is rough with stubble and silk where Ignis’s fingers disappear into his glorious mane of hair. 

“I-” Ignis starts but his voice is a raw wreck. He clears his throat and tries again. “I have been obscenely in love with you for years and it’s slowly driving me mad,” he confesses. 

Gladio’s smile is blinding, so it is good that Ignis only has to endure it a moment before Gladio surges up into a kiss. 

It is nothing like Ignis has fantasized about as their noses clash, then Ignis turns his head the wrong way and they bump lips to chin. He laughs at the ridiculousness of it all until Gladio brings his hands up, cupping Ignis’s face gently and tilting his head before consuming him with a soul-searing kiss. 

_ This is more like it, _ is Ignis’s last thought for a while as one kiss turns into a dozen. 

Finally coming up for air, Ignis blinks as the tree above them comes into focus. “Of course,” he laughs out loud. “Of course.”

“What?” Gladio asks, turning to see what Ignis is laughing at. Seeing nothing, he turns back to Ignis. “What’s so funny?”

“The trees,” Ignis says with a wave. Gladio looks again the turns back to Ignis, still confused. “Mistletoe,” Ignis explains, naming the plant twisting in the branches above. 

Gladio’s laugh is hearty and clear. “Of course,” he echoes. He turns to finally give the cookpot some attention. “I think I’ve overboiled the vegetables.” 

Ignis leans down to press his forehead to Gladio’s. “I don’t think I care.”

“The spam is probably cold.” 

“Don’t care about that either.”

“I love you,” Gladio says, pulling back to look at Ignis. 

“I care about that, quite a bit,” Ignis says. 

Gladio stands and pours the vegetable water into the waiting cups of noodles, adds the spam and gives them both a good stir before returning to Ignis, two cups in hand. 

Ignis takes his gladly and devours it, Gladio beside him doing the same. Sure enough, the vegetables are overboiled but the spam, once tipped into the cup heat up just fine and provide the salt such a simple meal needs. 

“This is the best meal I’ve ever had,” Ignis says as he finishes the cup. 

“Liar,” Gladio teases.

Ignis looks to Gladio, voice serious. “Never, not to you.” 

Somber, Gladio puts his cup down and Ignis stands, pulling him up. They stand, chest to chest by the fire for a long moment, arms around each other. “Gladio.”

Gladio hums.

“I love you.” 

“Say it again.” 

Ignis kisses a soft peck on Gladio’s cheek. “I’m in love with you.” 

Gladio kisses him again and very firmly begins to nudge Ignis back, back, towards the tent. 

“I’m in love with you, too,” he manages to get out before he opens the tent flap and pushes Ignis down to the sleeping bags. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mucho thanks to Sam for all the handholding and support! Look, we did it!


End file.
